


An Unlikely Friendship

by Tinuviel_Undomiel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinuviel_Undomiel/pseuds/Tinuviel_Undomiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt verse I am starting. Belle is a librarian for Snow White and Charming’s castle when she hears of the Dark One’s capture. When she hears of his mischievous antics with the guards, she decides to give into her curiosity and visit him as well as ease his boredom with her own favorite pastime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Librarian

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt verse I'm starting on tumblr, but you can prompt me here as well. I'm planning on keeping these chapters shorter than my usual stories and keeping them more episodic. I do plan to venture into Storybrooke eventually, but I am starting off this story in the Enchanted Forest directly after Rumple's capture. I'll reveal more about how Belle became a librarian later.

            Belle had always known she was odd. Even living in a castle that inhabited seven feisty dwarves, a wolf-girl, a talking cricket, and a shepherd turned prince, she was still the strange one. She wasn’t entirely sure why she never felt normal, even in this place that was so abnormal. Everyone was perfectly nice and friendly, but she was still the outsider. Queen Snow White and King James had been welcoming to anyone; however it is hard to compete with a close circle of friends who fought alongside of them in war. She didn’t need to be chummy with the queen, she was quite used to having books being her only friends. She much preferred the library to a ballroom any way. And no one could say she wasn’t good at her job. The castle’s library had never been more organized before she became the librarian.

            Still, sometimes a well read page could not reach that bit of loneliness she felt sometimes. Her whole life no one had really understood her. She couldn’t help but fear perhaps no one ever would.

            So she was where she could always be found when Red came charging into the library like she had an angry mob on her heels. Belle nearly dropped the stack of books she was carrying when the door burst open. It was the bright red cloak that indentified the intruder for her. “Red, you startled me!”

            She had befriended Red soon after she’d begun working at the castle. They’d both shared the experience of being the odd one out, though Red had found a great circle of friends to connect with. Red either didn’t hear her or had no desire to apologize for the scare. The words bubbled out of her in a rush. “Did you hear?” she said but didn’t wait for an answer, “The Dark One has been captured!”

            Belle set the books on the table before she dropped them again. “What?” the word came out in a gasp.

            “James and Cinderella did it,” Red said before launching into the whole tale. Apparently the maid turned princess hadn’t been given the chance to go to Prince Thomas’s ball by a kind fairy godmother, but had made a deal with the Dark One himself. It turned out the price was her first born child. Thomas and James had hatched the idea to imprison the sorcerer once and for all. But they forgot about the price of such magic and now poor Thomas was missing.

            “I do hope Cinderella will be all right,” Belle said at the conclusion of the tale, “Does the king have any ideas as to what happened to Thomas?”

            “Just that the Dark One probably spirited him away somewhere.”

            “That would imply that he _knew_ it was a trap,” Belle pointed out.

            Red blinked at her and then shook her head. “That’s impossible, I mean, why would he willingly walk into a trap?”

            That was a good point, but Belle still found it odd. “What have they done with him?”

            “Oh, well the dwarves built a prison underneath the castle,” Red said, “There’s fairy dust down there so it counteracts his magic. He can’t leave.”           

            Red seemed so excited by that idea, but all Belle could think of was what a prison like that would be. A giant hole in the earth, far away from sunlight, fresh air, or anything natural. She couldn’t imagine a worse place to languish for the rest of her days. Even being trapped in a tower would be better because at least there would be a view.

            It was silly to feel sympathy for the Dark One. She had heard all about his exploits, his deals, but had never met him personally. There was a time when she thought she might. The ogres were practically knocking on her father’s door, close to taking out their neighbor, Avonlea. Her father was seriously considering asking the Dark One for aid. What saved them was the king’s forces who finally arrived to defend the kingdom’s most lucrative merchant town.

            But that was four years ago back when she thought the only life she would ever have would be some nobleman’s wife. She supposed some would see her life now as a step down, but she adored her job as a librarian and was grateful for the freedom to make her own choices. In some ways she could sympathize with the Dark One. She had felt the iron walls of a cage once, a gilded cage of fine silks and lavish parties, not to mention the looming doom of a betrothal.

            Really, she had no right to judge anyone in the whole ordeal. She had heard a great deal about the Dark One, though how much of that was true she didn’t know. However, she trusted King James and Queen Snow White, they would not have imprisoned him if he wasn’t guilty of some wrong.

            But Belle couldn’t help but think about the sorcerer who languished in a cell several stories beneath her feet. The fact that it was the talk of the castle made it difficult for her to forget that fact. The guards were all discussing how to contain such a beast (a word that seemed rather harsh to Belle), the maids giggled over the more lascivious tales of the Dark One stealing virgins away to ravish (not that any of _them_ ever had to worry about that). Belle preferred the company of the dwarfs. Perhaps they weren’t big readers, but they were cordial, polite, and each had such vibrant personalities.

            That night she took her spot by the seven dwarfs, right next to Grumpy who would never admit he had a soft spot for her. She rather liked the taciturn dwarf. He’d told her his story about his love for a sweet, clumsy fairy who he had given up so he wouldn’t ruin her dream of being a fairy godmother. Belle had always been a bit of a romantic, probably because she had never had romance in her life.

            “Hello, Grumpy,” she said with a smile. He only gave her a grunt in reply. Normally he would at least say “Hey sister,” in that grouchy way of his. “What’s wrong?”

            “He’s in a bad mood today,” Happy said before taking a sip of his ale.

            “He’s always…” Sneezy let out a loud “ACHOO!” and then continued, “…like that.”

            “No, not really,” Belle said. Oh he was always Grumpy, it was in his name after all, but he was endearing in his cantankerous way. He was also fiercely loyal to his friends. “What’s wrong, Grumpy?”

            “Nothing, sister, just irritated is all.”

            “Why?”

            “He’s in charge of guarding the dungeon,” Bashful said.

            Belle crinkled her brow slightly. “I don’t understand, why would you do that? Isn’t there already a warden in charge of the prisons.”

            “He’s too scared to do this one,” Doc said softly.

            “Too scared of…” Belle stopped. She knew exactly what they were talking about now. “You have to guard the Dark One’s cell?”

            “Yep, not many will do it, but he doesn’t scare me. I went to his castle once. He’s just a crazy monster.”

            “You met him?” Belle asked, “When? How?”

            “Why do you care so much?”

            “I’m just curious,” she said, “I’ve heard so many stories about him, but yet I know very little on his person. I don’t even know his name.”

            “Oh, that’s easy,” Sleepy said, “it’s Rum—.” Six pairs of hands shot up and clamped down on his mouth.

            “Don’t say it, you moron!” Grumpy hissed at him. “if you say his name, he can hear it and he’ll know what we’re all saying. Even Dopey knows not to do that!”

            Dopey only gave Grumpy a happy little grin.

            “Why should it matter what he hears us say?” Belle asked, “Isn’t he locked away?”

            “That cell may hold him and keep him from magic, but I still wouldn’t trust him.”

            “No, of course not,” Belle agreed, staring into her mug. She could agree with that, but she couldn’t shake this intense curiosity about the man. Yes, man. Grumpy had called him a crazy monster, but she’d seen monsters. Ogres were monsters because they had no mind, no though process beyond eat, destroy, and kill. In order for someone to be crazy, they first had to have a mind that thought and reasoned like a man.

            “Where is the Dark One at?” Belle asked before her mind could tell her mouth not to.

            “Below the dungeons,” Grumpy said. He took a swallow of his mug and then set it down. “It’s a fitting cage for him, believe me there.”

            A cage didn’t sound fitting for anyone in Belle’s opinion. She let the subject drop, but it never really left her mind. She went to bed that night thinking about the dark sorcerer. She lay in bed wondering if he lay awake as well. Did he have any comforts with him? Was he frightened? Belle shifted around in her bed, smoothing her pillow, straightening her blankets. She even lit a candle and tried reading from her book, but nothing worked.

            Finally, Belle threw off the covers and climbed to her feet. She grabbed a silk robe she had been given by the warrior Mulan. She slid her feet into her slippers and took her candle. The castle was quiet except for the occasional guard roaming the halls. None of them stopped her. She was a frequent visitor to the library at night so no one suspected her.

            She had never been to the dungeons before. In fact, she only knew where they were because she had seen one of the guards bringing the bucket of gruel from the kitchens one morning. The dungeons began at the bottom of the western tower, but she knew the Dark One wouldn’t be kept in there. Grumpy had said he was _below_ the dungeons. How much further from the world could a man be?

            The dungeons were mostly empty, just few prisoners who were mostly captured associates of the Evil Queen. It was late and they were asleep, but she still carefully tiptoed past their cells. The guards were all on duty, but most were napping too. This didn’t speak well of the warden or his choice of guards. However, she was grateful for the lazy soldiers as she could pick through the sleepy dungeons without fear of being seen. The real problem was finding the door that led to this secret place.

            Belle kept her eyes peeled through the darkness to find this secret door, but she didn’t find it. Her foot did.

            She tripped over the ring that was bolted to the door. Apparently the entrance was on the floor, which made sense now that she thought of it. She wished she’d thought of that before because now her toe was stinging. Slippers were not useful when hunting for the Dark One’s prison.

            It took three tugs to finally lift the door away from the floor. The hinges groaned terrible and Belle looked around to make sure no one was coming. She didn’t waste much time, just hurried into the dark staircase. There were torches along the walls, but they were dim and sputtering. She remembered when she was little and she’d snuck into the cleric’s sanctuary one night just to see what all the fuss was about. The shadows and flickering candles had turned the house of worship into a place of nightmares. She’d never felt safe in that place again.

            She crept down the staircase with one hand brushing up against the wall. She’d take a step and consider turning back. Another step and she’d force herself to be brave. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was going down this frightening staircase. She could feel the air was damp down here and cold. Gooseflesh crawled up her legs and arms. Did he feel the cold and dankness of this place? Could he possibly be comfortable in such darkness?

            The corridor was sloped, bringing her slowly deeper below ground. She wondered how far this place would go, perhaps to the Underworld itself. It wouldn’t surprise her. She remembered a story her nurse had told her of a god of the Underworld carrying down a beautiful goddess to be his queen. Later, when she was older, she had wondered over the fate of the goddess. Had she grown to love her dark husband? Had she withered away in his lonely world? Now Belle sympathized with the goddess, but even she couldn’t turn away from the fearsome darkness waiting for her.

            The corridor evened out, but Belle could see a slight curve up ahead. She knew she was getting closer. She could feel something building up inside her chest. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a wild stallion pounding against a stable wall. Was it fear? She wasn’t sure, there was not shiver going up and down her spine, no knot in the pit of her stomach. It was more like a gentle flutter in her belly. No, this wasn’t fear, this was something closer to anticipation. Maybe even excitement.

            Something clamped onto her shoulder, earning a shriek from Belle as she whirled around to face the intruder. It was one of the guards, somewhat blurry eyed but awake enough to know she did not belong in this corridor.

            “My lady, what are you doing here?”

            Belle put one hand to her racing heart. There really was no excuse she could give that would set this all to right. She didn’t even really know the answer herself. Why had she come here? What had brought her to this passageway to darkness and doom? She had never been the type of person to gawk at another’s misfortune. Surely she hadn’t come her just to look at the Dark One trapped in his cage. Then why?

            “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, “It’s too dangerous.”

            “I thought the Dark One was contained and could not do magic,” Belle said. How dangerous could the man be when stripped of both freedom and power?

            “He is, but he is not to be trusted. Their majesties will not allow him any visitors to protect them. No one is entirely sure of what he is capable of.”

            Belle could certainly believe that last part. Everything she knew about the Dark One said he could do just about anything. Maybe that was why she was here. She wanted to know more about him, but not from the pages of a book. She wanted to see for herself if he was really the most fearsome being in the land.

            “You have to leave now, miss.”

            Belle nodded. She certainly couldn’t go visit the Dark One now that she was caught. What was worse, she knew what it would look to him just as it did to this guard. She didn’t want to be some spectator, laughing at someone else’s pain, or a thrill seeker wanting to tell the world that she’d seen the Dark One and lived to tell the tale. She needed to have a reason to be there beyond her obviously insane heart telling her to go.

            She left the freezing, dark corridor and slowly made her way back to her room. She returned to her bed with her mind troubled and a strange ache inside. This was something she was supposed to do, but she couldn’t see how to get there.

            Belle tried to push the whole incident out of her mind, but it was no use. She found herself scouring the books in the library for any mention of the Dark One. There were plenty of stories of his dastardly deals. There were legends too of how he’d thwarted kings, turned peasants into pigs, raped princesses, and drank the blood of virgins in a golden chalice. Each story was more gruesome than the next. Naturally, Belle couldn’t believe a word of them. Surely if all of this was true, no one would dare deal with him. It seemed there was only way to get the truth and that was to go to the Dark One himself.

            But how to do that? She wasn’t a guard nor did she have an pressing business with him. She certainly couldn’t go down and say she was just wanting to chat. He would never believe her. So she continued with her job, all the while wondering what the Dark One was doing below her feet.

            It was at dinner when she got her answer. The castle had a grand servant’s hall for everyone to relax and enjoy their evening meal. It was supposed to be only for the servants and staff, but more than once the royal couple had joined their friends here or they had invited servants to join them for dinner. No one was shy to talk or enjoy themselves in this castle.

            Granny regaled the group about some of her tales as a young wolf, careful to stick to the more humorous stories. They all took turns sharing their adventures, including Belle. She’d had more than one amusing tale she had experienced after she’d left her childhood home.

            Belle went to get another round of ale for the group. There were three soldiers standing by the bar, all with tankards full of liquor. “I’m not going back there,” one said just as Belle reached the bar.

            “Someone has to.”

            “Not me. I’m not going down there again. He’s insane.”

            Belle stood there with her purpose forgotten. She had an inkling as to who they were talking about. Nothing else mattered then.

            “We have orders to keep him comfortable.”

            “Don’t see why,” the guard said, “It’s not like he’ll die of natural causes. I hear he’s demon spat out of hell, that drinks blood and only eats raw human flesh.”

            “I haven’t seen him eat the slop we give him. It wouldn’t surprise me.”           

            “So you don’t mind going down there?”

            “Of course I do, but he can’t hurt us, not in that cage. He just drives me mad with his antics. He spouts and raves all night long. He’s always trying to find out my name or anyone else’s.”

            “I’ve heard him sing rambling songs and noises. It gives me a headache.”

            “I think he does it on purpose, wants to drive us all mad like him.”

            Belle blinked at their words and almost asked them to say more, but they were already leaving. There was now doubt that the person they spoke of was the Dark One. She wasn’t so certain about him drinking blood or eating human flesh, but she supposed he could be driving his guards a bit mad.

            She only listened to her companions with half an ear for the rest of the evening. She kept thinking about the guards said, how the Dark One was taunting them, toying with them on purpose. She supposed he had little else to do in that prison down there, no sunlight or warmth, and little human contact.

            Could that be why he was acting so crazed? Could he simply be bored?

            Belle smiled and chose not to retire to her rooms just yet. Instead she went straight to the library. It was lovely, two story room full of shelves and shelves of books. King George had been an avid collector in his youth, though he had never read them, preferring to collect them for value. Sadly, many were sold when the kingdom fell on hard times. It was Belle’s dream to restore this place to it’s former glory. She had several contacts with merchants and traders to find volumes for the collection.

            At the moment, she left her new books on the desk to sorted out tomorrow. She considered many options, but knew she would have to wait to pick a more suitable book later. For now, she chose one of her favorites and hoped it wouldn’t be met with a sneer.

            She had to wait again until the castle was still and silent as the moonlight. The guards were sleeping once again, but she didn’t dally. She kept the book tucked to her side as she tiptoed into the darkness. A few torches gave some light in the shadows, but not enough to keep the gloom at bay. Belle ignored the cold, pressing further until the passage evened out again and she could see the last torches flickering ahead of her.

            The firelight revealed a series of strange bars, almost like stalactites growing out of the cave. It was worse than a cage. The prison was the mouth of some terrifying monster, its jaws sealing its prey inside until the inevitable swallow that would lead to death. Belle’s breath was caught in her throat, her mouth bereft of any moisture. He was in there. Somewhere in that darkness.

            “H-hello?” she croaked out in barely more than a whisper. “hello?”

            There was no response, just her voice echoing off of the walls. Belle inched her way closer until she stood just before the bars. She peered through the space. There was nothing but darkness before her.

            In the blink of an eye, someone pounced out of the shadows and sprang to the bars. Belle let out a shriek. She tripped over the hem of her robe and fell on her backside on the stone floor. Her heart was still pounding when she hears him giggle. “Brave little thing to dare gawk at the Dark One.”

            Belle climbed to her feet then stomped back to stand before him. “Have you no manners at all?” she asked.

            “I’m not known for my courtesies.” Now that she was nearly nose to nose with him she could see he wasn’t as fearsome a beast as she was led to believe. In fact, he looked like a man. An odd man with green-gold skin that sparkled in the torchlight, unkempt brown hair that needed a good brushing, reptilian like eyes that were larger than most, but not outlandishly so. His fingers curled around the bars showing black nails almost the size of claws. Still, despite his abnormalities, he had all of the same parts as a man—at least as much as she could see. She blushed as she thought of those silly maids again.

            “Are you finished?” he asked her.

            “What?”

            “Have you gotten your look in, dearie? I may have all day, but I’d rather spend it plotting than being stared at by your like.”

            Belle bit her lip. “I apologize for staring.”

            “Apology not accepted, now you can go.” He pulled away from the bars, ready to slip back into his dark prison.

            “No, wait!” she called out for him. He stopped, spun on his heel and returned to the meager light.

            “I didn’t come here to stare at you,” Belle said.

            “Then what did you come here for? A deal? I can’t offer you much in this place.”

            “No, I’m quite happy with my life,” she told him, “I just thought you might be lonely and in need of some distraction.”

            “Distraction?” he said, his tone turning more teasing, “Are the knights here dull and you need to Dark One to make you wet between the legs?”

            Belle gaped at him again, hot fury racing through her blood. “How dare you!” she shouted at him, “You are a despicable man!”

            “I’m not a man, dearie.”

            “Really? Because no beast I know would ever insinuate such to a lady,” she told him, “Especially one who only wanted to help you from going insane in this horrid place!”

            “A lady?” he questioned, “Where are you from?”

            “Avonlea, not that it matters to you.”

            “Sir Maurice’s province,” he said, “I remember the ogres were nearly at your door once. I kept expecting a call, but none came.”

            “The king’s army saved us,” Belle admitted, “My father was about to send you a message before the tide turned in our favor.”

            “Lucky for you. So why is Sir Maurice’s daughter traipsing around Snow White’s castle in the middle of the night?”

            “I’m the king and queen’s librarian,” Belle told him.

            “A librarian? Why the gods would you do that? Shouldn’t you be married to some boorish lord, popping out his sons, and planning his parties while he whores around with the serving girls?”

            Belle gave him a grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

            He let out an amused hum and wrapped his hands around the bars to pull himself even closer. “I just might,” he admitted.

            “Well I’m not telling you. You’ve hardly earned it with your behavior tonight.”

            “Would an apology suit you?”

            “That is a start, but I hardly know you enough to tell you my story.”

            The Dark One glowered at her. “That’s not very nice of you, dearie, since I’ll never see you again anyways.”

            “Whose to say you won’t?” Belle said, “I’ll have to return for this anyways.” She held up the book for him to see.

            He studied the tome in her hand for a long moment. “What is that?”

            “A book.”

            “I know what it is, why do you have it?”

            “I brought it for you?”

            “Why?” he asked.

            “Must you sound so suspicious? It’s not poisoned. It’s for you to read and enjoy.”

            “You’re giving me a book?”

            “Just to borrow,” Belle told him, “I thought you might be bored in this place.”

            “Not really, I’m too busy planning my revenge to be bored.”

            “So I should just take this back upstairs?” she asked, pulling it back to her side.

            “Well I’d hate for you to come all of this way for nothing,” he said and then reached through the bars towards her hand. Belle pulled the book away just as his fingertips touched the leather. He let out a growl that made her smile. So she’d been right, he was bored.

            “I’ll give this to you after you answer my question,” Belle said.

            “I knew you wanted a deal!” he crowed like he’d won a prize, but he almost sounded outraged. Strange. “Ask your question, dearie.”

            “What’s your name?”

            He stared at her again, all of the anger out of his eyes. “What?”

            “Everyone calls you the Dark One, but you must have a name,” she said, “I want to know it.”

            “Names have power, dearie,” he told her.

            “I highly doubt knowing your name is going to cause you any harm, but it will give you the book.”

            He let out a grunt, his large eyes flickering up and down her in a careful look. “Rumplestiltskin,” he said, trailing the R a bit.

            “Goodness,” Belle said, “What a long name for one so fearsome. I’m Belle, by the way.”

            “Belle,” he said, “What a short name for one so cheeky.”

            She laughed and then held up the book. “For you.”

            Hs hand eagerly snatched up her offering, pulling to back into the darkness with him. He scanned the cover, flipping through the pages as he scanned the contents. “ _This_ is what you brought me?”

            “You’re going to picky over this?” she said, affronted, “It’s one of my favorites.”

            He let out a snort. “Clearly you have led a dull life. This bit of fantastical drivel is the sort of thing princesses trapped in towers would read.”

            “Well, thank you for calling me a princess,” Belle said with a grin, “But my mother would read that book to me when I was a child. I’ve loved it ever since.”

            “I’ll have to tell your mother she needs better taste.”

            “I’m afraid she died many years ago.”

            “Well, that makes things more challenging,” he admitted. She couldn’t help but let out a little laugh when he giggled.

            “Do give it chance,” Belle urged him, “You may enjoy it.”

            “I doubt it.”

            “I’ll try another one next time,” Belle said. She glanced down the dark corridor behind her. “I must go. When should I return for the book.”

            “Tomorrow night.”

            “Tomorrow?” she asked.

            “Well I hardly have anything else to do,” he reminded her, “I might as well read. Even this trash will be more entertaining than counting the cracks in the wall again.”

            “I should say so,” Belle replied, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Rumplestiltskin.”

            “I’ll try to stay up for you,” he said then waved her off. He gave her his back, but not before she saw him trace the engravings on the worn leather like they were made of precious stones.

Belle grinned to herself as she turned away. She was certain he’d be eager for her return, if only so he could have someone to talk to. She didn’t sleep at all that night, spending it all counting the minutes until sunset.


	2. Tea Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AnonymousNerdGirl prompted: Belle overhears the one guard talking about spiitting in the Dark One's food and another say that he saw him digging for worms. Belle brings him a tea tray, but drops a cup.
> 
> Someone else prompted: Belle and Rumple share a meal. (sorry I couldn't find the original prompt so I don't remember who it was, but I did remember what they prompted)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AnonymousNerdGirl prompted: Belle overhears the one guard talking about spiitting in the Dark One's food and another say that he saw him digging for worms. Belle brings him a tea tray, but drops a cup.
> 
> Someone else prompted: Belle and Rumple share a meal. (sorry I couldn't find the original prompt so I don't remember who it was, but I did remember what they prompted)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I was stuck on how to start the next chapter of Marriage of Untrue Minds so I thought I'd unlock the muse with this story again. Please feel free to prompt me.

Tea Time

 

            It had been a week since Belle had begun her nocturnal visits to the prison cell housing Rumplestiltskin. He had indeed finished the first book she gave him within a day. Despite his sneering over it’s fantastical plotline, he had almost seemed reluctant to give it up. Perhaps her mother hadn’t had such poor taste after all.

            They had begun discussing books every time she exchanged one for another. He appeared to be well read, though he never turned his nose up to any of her offerings. She’d asked him just last night that she would avoid books he’d read before if he wished, but he said he rarely read anything. His own cleverness and the way he could argue his points on books told her that wasn’t true. Perhaps, like her, he didn’t mind reading books again. There was always something new to discover, even on the hundredth read.

            Before dinner, she selected a book for him to read tonight—philosophy because she was eager to hear his opinions on some of the theories. The dwarves were absent Grumpy and Doc today, but still good fun as always. Grumpy was on guard duty again and Snow was in need of Doc as she still suffered from some morning sickness.

            Belle enjoyed ale with her friends and went to get them all some dessert when she saw two guards finishing their meal. One of them was Sir Keith of Nottingham, the former sheriff of that forest now reduced to a toiling guard. She never liked the man, he reminded her too much of someone else she once knew. He gave her wink and licked his lips as she passed.

            “Care to join us, wench?” he asked her.

            Belle just ignored him as she got a tray to put on the six plates of Granny’s cherry pie. His friend returned with two mugs of ale just then, leaving her free from his “charms” at the moment. “Don’t have much time. They’re preparing the imp’s supper now.”

            “Ah, just came from the kitchens then,” Keith said, “anything different for him?”

            “Same gruel, but I did add a little flavoring. I hope he likes spit.”

            Belle stared at her pies now with disgust, but apparently they weren’t finished. “I’ve got one better,” Keith said, then reached down under the bench he sat on to reveal a jar. Belle stared at it for a moment, seeing something move inside the glass. No, more than one thing. She gasped when she realized it was worms squirming inside that jar, seeking escape.

            “This ought to be a delightful treat for that imp,” Keith said with a hideous laugh.

            “Don’t know why we bother to feed him anyways. They say he eats nothing but raw flesh.”

            “Then the worms ought to satisfy him.”

            Belle grabbed the pies and returned with them to her table, sidestepping Keith and his groping hand as she did. The dwarves were glad to find such a wholesome dessert, but Belle hardly touched her own piece. Far below her feet, Rumplestiltskin waited for his own meal which would be soiled by vermin.

            She understood fearing the Dark One, she even understood those who were angry at him for the wrongs he’d done to them, but to maliciously humiliate and starve him to simply inflate power over him was despicable. She knew the king and queen wouldn’t allow it. Snow White had spared Queen Regina despite all of her sins, surely they would never knowingly condone such cruelty to Rumplestiltskin.

            After dinner, Belle found herself pacing her room, unable to focus on a book or even the task of preparing for bed. There had to be some way to tell them about the guards disgusting behavior, but how? She couldn’t tell them herself, that would reveal her visits to the imp. Belle knew in her heart that she wasn’t wrong in going to him, but she feared the others wouldn’t see it as so. If she told them…they could forbid her from ever seeing him, put up more guards to insure it. Perhaps she could slip them an anonymous note. The trouble was would they believe the words of an unknown person?

            Belle thought about it for a while before she decided there was no point in going to the young monarchs. All that would do was curtail her visits and not help Rumplestiltskin at all. So she decided to resort to plan B.

            She went down to the kitchens and made a pot of tea and borrowed some honey cakes from the pantry. It wasn’t unusual for her to have some tea at night. She liked curling up with a warm cup and a good book. Thankfully, no one noticed she took enough for two.

            Belle was extra careful as she made her way down to the secret dungeon. She didn’t want to trip and spill the tea, or worse, alert the guards of her arrival. The torches still flickered, casting eerie shadows on the wall. The imp behind the bars was no where to be seen.

            “Rumplestiltskin,” Belle whispered into the darkness, “Rumplestiltskin, I brought you something.”

            He made no appearance. Belle frowned at the bars, but they would not reveal their captive. So she set the tray down and picked up a cup to pour some tea into it. She was setting the pot down when one clawed hand reached out and grabbed her arm. Belle gasped, the porcelain cup slipping from her fingers.

            “What have you brought for me this time, dearie? Planning to poison me?”

            Belle glared at him, wrenching his hand away from her arm. “It’s just tea, though I ought to slip some hollyhock in there for your behavior.”

            He let out a hideous giggle. “You are a feisty thing. I’ll have to remember that trick the next time I have tea with Regina.”

            “How will you do that if you’re trapped in here?”

            “Ah, ah,” he said, wagging his finger before her face, “That’s my little secret.”

            Belle let out a huff. He was covered in secrets, sometimes she wondered what lay beneath all of those layers. But he guarded his person carefully. Even now, she knew he didn’t trust her despite her efforts to show she was only there to give him comfort.

            She saw the bowl of food resting outside of the bars, the worms still wriggling and burrowing into the mush. “I see the guards gave you dinner.”

            “Worms have always been my favorite.”

            “What about honey cakes?” Belle asked him, “They may not compare to worms, but I find them delicious.”

            For the first time, his eyes fell away from her and down to the tray. His nose twitched and his eyes narrowed at the sight of the bounty. “What is this?”

            “Tea,” Belle said.

            “Why?”

            “I thought you would like it.”

            “Why?”

            “If you’re going to question my motives then maybe I’ll just take it all away,” Belle told him. She looked down at the dropped cup from before, sighing down at it. “You’re suspicion already broke this,” she held up the cup to his line of sight. There was a large chip now in the rim. “I don’t know how I’ll explain this to the kitchen staff.”

            “It’s just chipped, dearie,” he said, “Can it still hold tea?”

            “I suppose.”

            “Then pour me a cup and let me try a cake. Can’t waste all the trouble you went to or you might put hemlock in the next pot.”

            “Don’t tempt me,” she said, but poured more tea into the chipped cup and handed it to him. He took the little cup into his large hands carefully, cradling it like it was made of gold. He took a small sip. “It’s tepid,” he said.

            “It is a long trip from the kitchens,” Belle told him, “Will you find fault with the cakes now?”

            “I’ll have to try one first.” She handed him one sticky cake, smiling when he took a generous bite. “It’s tolerable,” he said.

            “Compliments don’t fall from your tongue easily.”

            “The Dark One is not supposed to praise people, but deprive them of all they hold dear.”

            “Sounds like the Dark One could use a book on manners,” Belle said.

            His eyes narrowed in suspicion and he pointed one finger at her. “If that has what you brought me today, dearie, be prepared to have it thrown back at you.”

            Belle chuckled a little. “You sound so fierce, Rumplestiltskin, but I suspect most of that is just talk.”

            “Care to test me?”

            “Maybe another time,” she said lightly before passing the book through the bars, “I love the philosophical nature of this book.”

            He squinted at the title, thumbing through the pages a bit. “When you’ve lived for over three hundred years, you don’t put much credence in philosophy.”

            “Then you must have a lot of wisdom you could share,” Belle said.

            “Indeed, die while you can.”

            “Is immortality so bad?” Belle asked him, taking a sip of her own tea. He was right, it had cooled, but it was still delicious. The honey cakes were perfect though, moist and just the right blend of sweetness.

            “Not when you have no one left in the world who matters to you,” he confessed, “though it can get quite dull when you have all the time in the world but so little ways to pass it.”

            “You could always read,” Belle said, “There are always new books to enjoy.”

            “Of course you would say that, dearie.”

            “Well, surely you must have found something to do in all of that time,” Belle said.

            “Indeed,” he told her softly, “I had a purpose to my immortality.”

            “And what was that?”

            “Ah, ah, ah,” he said, wagging his finger back and forth, “you haven’t earned that yet, dearie.”

            “Now I’m earning your secrets?” Belle said.

            “That’s right.”

            “So what did I do to earn your name?”

            “That’s my little secret.”

            Belle gave him her best glare, sticking her lip out in a pout that had him laughing in that strange way of his. “Are you like this to everyone or just your friends?” Belle asked him.

            His laughed died in an instant. He gave her a strange, wide eyed look. “What makes you think that you’re my friend. The Dark One doesn’t have friends.”

            “Well, maybe I’m not _your_ friend,” Belle said, “but _you_ are mine.”

            “Oh, so that’s how it works, dearie? You decide if we are friends or not?”

            “Do you really want to be alone, with no one in the world to care about you?”

            “I’ve been that way for three hundred years.”

            “And have you been happy?”

            “Happy?” he said the word like she was speaking in a foreign tongue.

            Belle gave him a tiny smile then reached through the bars to take his hand. She felt his muscle’s tense and he stared at her hand with a look she recognized now: disbelief. “Rumplestiltskin, I like coming down here to talk with you. I would like to be your friend if you’ll let me.”

            He stared at her hand for a long time. “I’ve never had a friend,” he said in a voice that was almost human.

            “Well you have one now.”

            “What do friends do, exactly?”

            “Talk,” Belle told him, “borrow each other’s things, tell each other secrets.”

            “Hmm,” he said and slipped his hand free from hers, “Now I see why you wanted to be my friend. Clever girl.”

            She laughed a little. “You don’t have to tell me your secrets yet, Rumple. Just know that if you need a friend you have one in me.”

            His cheek twitched, his were eyes large and uncertain. She wondered if he wanted to say something, or maybe just smile, but didn’t know how to do that anymore without seeming like the enemy. He’d been the Dark One for so long that he’d forgotten how to be Rumplestiltskin. Little acts of kindness frightened him more than anything. She couldn’t help but wonder why.

            Sadly, she couldn’t stay forever. “I have to go,” Belle said solemnly. She handed him the last two honey cakes on a napkin and then began to gather the rest of the tea things. But when she reached through the bars to take his cup, he pulled it out of her reach. “I’ll keep that, dearie. That way you won’t have to explain to the kitchen staff how one of their cups was chipped.”

            Belle blinked at him. She remembered what she’d said before, but truly it wasn’t so terrible. No one could accuse her of anything if she returned a slightly damaged cup. “All right,” she told him. She picked up the tray and smiled at him. “Good night, Rumplestiltskin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            She turned away and started to walk down the dark corridor when his gruff voice called back, “Good night, Belle.”

            Belle felt a tiny spark of warmth settle in her stomach. When she glanced back, the light from the torches showed he had that cup in his hands, tracing the chipped rim with one finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this little chapter. Please prompt me some more ideas either here or on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and feel free to leave me prompts for this story. I'm eager to see what you all come up with.


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